


The Guardians

by Emma



Series: The Queen's Magicians [15]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 21:02:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma/pseuds/Emma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An amnesiac woman lands the team in the middle of a battle for control of one of history's greatest secrets</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Canon calls this one _Sleepers_

     When his phone rang Andy cursed fluently in several languages before snatching it off the bedside table and flipping it open. “Yes?”  
  
     “Andy?” It was Mairwen de Castro, the night-shift officer at the Lanishen police station. “You didn't hear it from me 'cause I'm not on the phone right now, but there's something your lot should look at here in our turf.”  
  
     Andy was instantly awake. “What's going on?”  
  
     “We got a call yesterday afternoon to the home of Beth and Mike Halloran. Nice couple. He's a barrister, she teaches graphic design at the Arts College. Semi-detached in Old Vicarage Close. No kids yet. Except that when we got there, Mike Halloran was dead, there were two other bodies, as yet unidentified, in the kitchen, and Beth Halloran sitting on the parlor window seat, rocking herself like a kid. Memory is totally gone.”  
  
     “It sounds pretty ugly, but...”  
  
     “Wait for the best part,” Mairwen interrupted. “The working assumption was that it was a home invasion gone wrong, so they brought in a Medium to contact the two in the kitchen. She ended up in the hospital. The best she can tell us is that something very powerful slammed her back. A force she had never felt before.”  
  
     By the time Mairwen finished, Andy was already standing and trying to put on his jeans one-handed. “And why hasn't this made its way to the Episcopal Court yet?”  
  
     “The Chief Constable isn't what you call fond of the Bishop. He decided it could wait until Monday.”  
  
     “I see. I'm sure Her Grace will be pleased. Thanks, Mairwen. I haven't heard from you and I'm not inviting you to lunch on Saturday at our usual place.”  
  
     She laughed. “I'll see you at one, then.”  
  
     Andy closed the phone and threw it on the bed while he rummaged in the closet. He pulled a polo shirt over his head and slipped his feet into boat shoes. He had spent several weeks running about from Ireland to Wales and back again as the Bishop's official representative, wearing out his two best suits. It was a great relief to wear Andy clothes again. Leather jacket, wallet in back pocket, phone in jacket pocket, and that was that. Comfortable and unremarkable.  
  
     He attached the Torchwood earphone and tapped the small disk twice. “Ianto?”  
  
     “Andy, do you know what time it is?”  
  
     Andy glanced at his bedside phone. Four a.m. “About ten minutes later than I had to get up, so spare me the bid for sympathy, mate.”  
  
     Ianto snorted. “What's up?”  
  
     “Call from a friend on the force. Something weird happened up at Old Vicarage Close and the Chief Constable is playing mum.” He repeated the story Mairwen had told him. “I know that some of the high-ranking Catholics aren't too fond of the Bishop, but withholding information from the Episcopal Court is a sure way of getting all your chevrons torn off at high noon on the castle esplanade with the whole South Glamorgan police lined up to witness. You don't risk that for a home invasion case.”  
  
     “Agreed. I'll get Jack up and moving and meet you at the Hub. Tosh, too.”  
  
     “I'll swing by and get her if you want. It's on my way.”  
  
     “Yeah. See you in a while.”  
  
     Andy pressed the disk behind his ear for a three-count, released, and tapped three times. “Tosh? I'm sorry to wake you up, sweet, but we need to get to the Hub. Something nasty's stirring and we need your technomagic. All right, all right! I'll stop by the bakery and get us some goodies. Greedy minx.” Her tart comment on his ancestry made him hoot with laughter. “And you don't know the half of it, Tosh, me darling. See you in a few.”  
  
     He skipped down the staircase, patting the arses on the caryatids holding up candelabras at each landing. As he reached the entry hall, Munro came out of the baize door that led to the kitchens. He looked Andy up and down with the familiarity of an old retainer.  
  
     “Torchwood business, then.”  
  
     Andy gave him a cheeky grin. “It can't be all diplomacy and balls, Munro.”  
  
     “Yes it could, but it won't. Torchwood's in your blood, same as all your relatives. Off you go. I won't even try to get dinner on the table.”  
  
     “That's for the best, I think.” He grabbed his keys off the hall table. “See you when I see you.”  
  
     He got behind the wheel and set down the drive. After his mother died, his father had let the front lawns revert to a meadow, but her favorite lemon lilies still popped up in great big masses, scenting the air throughout the summer. Andy suspected that Cynog, the gardener, conspired with Munro to replant them every few years, especially if his father was expected to spend time in Cardiff.  
  
     The tall wrought-iron gates swung open as the car approached. He drove slowly down the lane – some people still had their milk delivered – and then sped up as he reached the main road. It was still quiet, and he made good time into Cardiff. The bakery Tosh liked was immediately to the right as he turned into the street leading to the parking garage. He double-parked in front of the door and ran in, leaving the engine on. The girl behind the counter waved at him, then loaded up a box and passed it over.   
  
     “I'll charge your card, then, Mr. Davidson?”  
  
     “Thanks, Annie.”  
  
     When he got to the parking garage he found Tosh waiting for him, leaning against the side of her small runabout. He presented her with the box in exaggerated courtly fashion. “Didn't you trust me?”  
  
     “Of course I did, Andy.” She grabbed the box by the old-fashioned string ties and hooked her other hand into his elbow. “But it never hurts to make sure, doesn't it?”  
  
     Andy kissed her temple and allowed himself to be led through the insconspicuous door marked _cleaning supplies, staff only_. Somehow, while Jack had been away, he had grown close to Tosh. Much to his amazement, it had been perfectly platonic, and now they treated each other like brother and sister. He had taken Tosh home and introduced her to Munro and his wife Bess, and she had spent a long weekend roaming the grounds, talking to the owls and the foxes. He rather liked having a sister.   
  
     “There you are,” Ianto was standing on the steps leading to the conference room. “Coffee's ready. Gwen and Owen are on the way too. After I did a quick scan through the most recent entries in the police logs, Jack had me call them in.”  
  
     “Andy provided breakfast.” Tosh handed over the box. “Let me do a little work myself. I should have something by the time they get here.”  
  
     Andy and Ianto left her at it and went upstairs. “Where's Jack?” Andy asked.  
  
     “Showering. He didn't get much sleep... and don't give me that look, Andrew Davidson. Unfortunately, it was nothing like that. He had to go up to Torchwood Scotland to deal with a problem over there. Nasty one. Just got back last night, maybe two hours before you called.”  
  
     Andy winced. “Ouch.”  
  
     A heavy hand descended on his shoulder, maybe a tad harder than it absolutely needed to. “Don't worry, Andy. I'll take it out of your hide sooner or later.” Jack said. “However, much will be forgiven if you remembered my banana-nut muffins.”  
  
     The sound of the cog door alarm stopped Andy from answering. Gwen and Owen came in, jostling each other and laughing. “Up here, you two,” Jack called out. “Tosh?”  
  
     “Coming!” Tosh answered as she moved her hands rapidly over the touch screen. One final swipe and she stood up, yawning and stretching. “Ianto, coffee?”  
  
     “Upstairs!”  
  
     They had barely sat down before they popped open the bakery box and dug in. Jack grinned at Andy over his muffin. Tosh sipped at her coffee as she activated the virtual terminal at her desk. Owen took a croissant, buttered it lightly and slid it towards her. She nodded her thanks absently.  
  
     “Don't bother, Owen,” Gwen giggled. “She's found something and is chasing it back to its lair.”  
  
     Tosh looked up, grinning. “Wrong tense. I _have_ chased it back to its lair.”  
  
     She touched the keyboard and the large screen above the table lit up to show a candid snapshot of a couple, the man standing behind the woman. He was tall, blond, and muscular; she was chocolate-skinned and rather beautiful in an exotic sort of way. “Mike and Beth Halloran. Married five years ago at Temple Church in London. He was a barrister, Inner Temple, so he qualified. She is a graphics designer. All nice and above board. Except that Mike and Beth Halloran do not exist anywhere prior to that marriage. Well, they do, but all the documents are forgeries.”  
  
     Jack leaned forward. “What's that on his neck? Under the shirt?”  
  
     She zoomed in and tried to sharpen the image. “It looks like a... bar with three points at the end?”  
  
     “ A fleury cross.” Ianto said. “Templar symbol. A cross with the ends resembling flower petals. Vanity tattoo?”  
  
     “I don't think so,” Jack said slowly. “Look at the color and shape. Slightly raised, puffy edges, dark reddish-brown...”  
  
     “A brand,” Owen said. “Not a tattoo.”  
  
     “I think so.”  
  
     “Are you saying he's a Templar Knight?” Gwen asked. “I thought they were killed off centuries ago.”  
  
     “Everyone certainly thinks so,” Jack said. “Which would be very convenient for the survivors. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Anything on the other two bodies?”  
  
     Tosh tapped a rapid sequence, and the screen changed to show autopsy pictures of two men, head and shoulders. Even in death they seemed rather tight-lipped and sour. Both had goatees. “Alan Grandel and James Beauchamp. Business men from France. Absolutely clean and spotless records. And much like Mike and Beth, both living on forged documents. And there's this.” She touched the screen and the pictures rotated, showing the back of the heads. Both had a large, round patch shaved off at the crown.  
  
     “Tonsures.” Ianto set down his cup. “Monks.”  
  
     “Yes,” Tosh said. “Messieurs Grandel and Beauchamp arrived in Wales three weeks ago on the Holyhead ferry. They have been crisscrossing the country, making no particular effort to hide their tracks. Then two days ago, they checked out of their hotel, supposedly heading back home to Avignon.”  
  
     “Can we traced them back?” Gwen asked.  
  
     “I've already started,” Tosh said. “It'll take a while.”  
  
     “And it still begs the question,” Andy said, studying the two men on the screen. “What were two french monks doing travelling under false passports in Wales? And showing up dead in the house of a man with a Templar brand on his neck? And why were they under such strong geas that even death didn't release them?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Frates Milites Christi really did exist. They were also known as the Brothers of Dobryn. It was a Prussian order which had a dismal career against the Prussian pagan tribes and disappeared around 1240. 
> 
> A bell, book, and candle mass is a medieval mass of excommunication where a bell was tolled to signify the person was dead to the faith, the Gospels were closed, and a candle was snuffed out.

     "They have a guard on Beth Halloran's door,” Gwen reported as she slipped out of the nurse's coat and cap. “Malcolm Grant, the putrid sod. He'll not give us the time of day.We need to get Mrs. Halloran out of here, Andy. Something stinks in this whole set up.”  
  
     Andy smiled craftily. “Agreed. Leave Malcolm to me.”  
  
     Tosh had finally located Beth Halloran in the secure emergency ward at Llandough Hospital, the one used by police for violent suspects. Jack had sent Andy and Gwen to reconnoiter. They arrived to find the place crawling with plainclothes cops trying to pass themselves off as visitors, doctors, and even emergency room patients. Andy remembered the layout of the staff areas from his time as police lay chaplain, and he had managed to find an empty dressing area to hide in and raid for useful costumes.  
  
     Andy pulled out his personal phone and speed-dialed a number. “Tom? Yes... Not a social call, I'm afraid. I'm calling in that favor you owe me.... You know Malcolm Grant?.... actually, that's not the worst thing someone has called him lately... I need him distracted... yes, I know it's a sodding lousy trick... yeah. Thanks.” He put the phone back in his pocket. “Get ready, Gwen.”  
  
     A few minutes later they heard the sound of running feet. Andy stuck his head out the door. The whole floor seemed empty. He motioned Gwen through and followed her as she bolted down the corridor to the last door on the left, next to the emergency stairs. She shoved at it, but the door was locked. Andy motioned her away. Reaching under the collar of his jacket, he pulled out a long, thin needle.  
  
     “Where did you learn to pick locks, Andy?” Gwen whispered.  
  
     “Jack.” He pushed the needle into the lock. “You should ask him to teach you sometime. It's a... ” he twisted gently this way and that, “handy little...” one more twist, “skill.”  
  
     The door swung open and he waved Gwen through only to nearly crash into her as she skidded to a stop. He looked over at the bed, and his mouth fell open. Beth Halloran had been tied down with the kind of restraints used to hold down addicts on a bad trip. She had also been gagged. But it wasn't the horrible sight, or her terrified eyes above the cloth that had him shaking. It was the nine figures surrounding the bed, fully armored under their white tunics embroidered with the fleury cross across the chest, visors pulled down, and swords drawn. Seemingly insubstantial, they still projected a cold, calm sort of menace.  
  
     “Gwen...”  
  
     “I see them, Andy.” She cleared her throat and stepped forward. “I am Gwen Cooper, of the people of the Goddess, and this is Andrew Davidson, your brother in the service of your Christ. We've come to take Mrs. Halloran to safety.”  
  
     One of the knights stepped forward, bringing his sword up to touch Gwen's neck. Andy started to move, but Gwen gripped his arm hard enough to nearly put her nails through the leather of his jacket. He held still, sending up every prayer he knew in as many languages as he remembered. Finally, after what seemed like a thousand years, the knight stepped back and the sword moved across his chest in salute. The other knights copied the gesture, and then they all faded away.  
  
     They rushed to the bed and untied Beth Halloran. Gwen pulled off the gag and threw it angrily in one corner. Beth seemed shocked into near catatonia and allowed Gwen to put her trainers on and bundle her into her coat. They held her up between them as they left the room as fast as they could manage.  
  
     As they struggled with Beth's limp body, Andy managed to tap his earphone. “Jack? We found Mrs. Halloran and decided to bring her with us. The constabulary is going to be on our arses in about two more minutes.... Fine.” He turned to Gwen. “Upstairs.”  
  
     “To the roof?” She sounded a bit tetchy. “What's he going to send, a helicopter?”  
  
     Andy couldn't help but grin. “With Jack, you never know. At least it's only one floor up.”  
  
     About half-way up the stairs they heard Grant bellowing with rage. They moved as fast as they could. Beth seemed to be coming out of her daze, and she tried to actually take steps. Finally they reached the metal door leading to the roof. Andy pushed on the bar, but the door was locked from the outside. People were running on the stairs; they knew that sooner or later someone would have the bright idea of looking up instead of down. They flattened themselves against the wall as much as they could.  
  
     “Your pick?”  
  
     Andy shook his head. “No lock on this one. It's a security door with an electronic...”  
  
     “Somebody call for a ride?” Owen said as he pulled the door open, grinning from ear to ear, but the grin vanished as he caught a glimpse of Beth. “What the hell did they do to her?” Suddenly they all heard Grant's bellow of _upstairs, you idiots_! “Never mind. Later. Come on!”  
  
     They tumbled out into the roof. Owen slammed the door shut. Andy heard Gwen squeal and turned to find himself nearly eye to eye with Myfanwy.  
  
      “He's not expecting us to ride her out of here, does he?”  
  
     Andy and Owen couldn't help but laugh at the eagerness in Gwen's voice. “Too slow and too visible,” Owen gasped. “But she has a certain ability...” They looked over their shoulder as they heard people shoving against the door and cursing. “Keep on holding Mrs. Halloran. Gwen, give me your hand.”  
  
     He took the extended hand and placed his other one on Myfanwy's brow ridge. Andy felt the familiar rush of displaced air as the dragon's magic pulled them into the Other Side. Either they or it were moving very fast, because all he could see was a blur punctuated by glimpses of trees or buildings. At one point he thought he saw a troop of the Fairy Folk stop to watch them pass. Then, almost as soon as they had started, they tumbled back into the World right in front of the Hub's fountain.  
  
     The moment they were steady on their feet Owen concentrated on examining Beth. “Looks like she was given tranquilizers, but she's coming out of it already. Take her to sick bay...”  
  
     “Owen, no.” Gwen interrupted urgently. “She had been restrained and gagged. Another hospital bed may not be the best thing for her right now.”  
  
     “Bastards. Right, then. Couch.” He loped off towards sick bay. “Ianto!”  
  
     “I'm right here, Owen. No need to bellow.” Ianto came downstairs with a fully loaded coffee tray.He set it down on the table in front of the couch.   
  
     Andy poured himself a cup of coffee.God, he was tired. “Where are Jack and Tosh?”  
  
     “After you left Tosh found some more information. Rather... disturbing information.” Ianto took a pillow and a blanket from a drawer in the small chest behind the couch. Lifting Beth's head carefully, he placed the pillow underneath, then he spread the blanket over her. “Jack thought it was essential that he consult face to face with Mother Katherine. He took Tosh with him. Gwen, eat something.”  
  
     “How disturbing?” Andy asked.  
  
     “Our two strangers were identified as members of the Fratres Milites Christi.”  
  
     “Never heard of them.”  
  
     “Neither had anyone else until Tosh dragged them into the light. A small order founded in Prussia to fight against pagans around 1190. Never very big or successful. Drops out of the history books around 1240 or so. Turns out they have a small monastery near Avignon. And a very strange monastery it is. More security than the Tower of London and wards that probably match those of St. Peter's in Rome.”  
  
     “Briefing later,” Owen said as he returned from sick bay holding a hypodermic needle in one hand. “We need to get her awake. Gwen, could you hold her legs, make sure she doesn't hurt herself?”  
  
     Gwen wolfed down the last of her biscuit and knelt by Beth's side. “Go ahead.”  
  
     Owen pulled Beth's arm out gently and found the vein on the inside of her elbow. Pushing the needle in, he pressed the plunger. He had barely taken the needle out when Beth started to thrash about. Gwen threw her whole body across Beth's legs.  
  
     “Beth, it's all right, it's all right, you're safe!”  
  
     Her voice seemed to get through. Beth stilled. “Wha.... what happen... Mike!” She sat bolt upright, dislodging Gwen. “Where's Mike?”  
  
     “Beth...”  
  
     “Where's Mike! What have you done with him?”  
  
     Gwen took Beth's hands in hers. “Mike is dead, Beth. Don't you remember?”  
  
     “No! No, he's not, he can't be. Where's Mike?”  
  
      “Beth,” Gwen said. “The police found two men dead in your house. Do you remember them?”  
  
     She rubbed her face and ran her fingers through her braided hair. “No! All I remember is... someone knocked at the kitchen door. A man... said he was lost... it isn't unusual in our area, tourists think they can use the street as a shortcut to the centre and of course, they get all turned around... that's all I remember... until now. Where am I?” She looked around wildly. “What is this place?”  
  
     Andy noticed Ianto moving away from the group. He poured a mug of coffee and offered it to Beth. “This is Torchwood, Beth. No, don't be afraid. We want to help, we really do.” Then, suddenly, he spat the question out. “Why did you kill them, Beth?”  
  
     “I didn't!” She had been reaching for the coffee, but pulled back as if he had slapped her. “I didn't do anything!”  
  
     Gwen sat down on the arm of the couch. “Beth, we know these men attacked you and your husband. Now, if you fought back, people will understand. It was self-defence.”  
  
     “But I didn't! I promise you, I didn't!” She pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around them, and hid her face. “I didn't!”  
  
     “All right, Beth.” Gwen rubbed Beth's back gently. “We can talk some more later.”  
  
     “I'm afraid we don't have much time,” Ianto said, tapping his earphone. “That was Jack. Mother Katherine received a call from one of her contacts in France. The Pope will be issuing a bull next week, declaring _certain groups that have sinned against the Mother Church_ to be anathema. Bell, book, and candle masses will be celebrated in all Catholic cathedrals. More worrying, it seems that some of the terminology used implies that the members of those groups are removed from civil protections as well as religious ones.”  
  
     “What does that mean?” Gwen asked.   
  
     Andy sighed. “It means that, say, if someone throws a rock at an excommunicate and it kills them, it's not considered murder. The killer has to do penance, but there are no civil penalties associated with the actual killing. Basically he's giving Catholics a hunting license.”  
  
     “Is that legal?” She said, stunned.  
  
     “Not since the Middle Ages, and not technically even then. They know that in Rome. This has to be cover for something else, but what?”  
  
     “What does that have to do with Mike and me?” Beth sounded terrified. “We're not Catholics!”  
  
     “The men found dead in your kitchen were members of a Catholic religious order. You were taken from your home and your whereabouts concealed on the direct orders of the Catholic Chief Constable of this county.” Ianto's calm, measured sentences fell like hammers into the silence. “Your husband wore the brand of the Knights Templar. And so do you.” They all whipped around to stare at him. “I touched it when I moved her head to make space for the pillow. Her brand is much more discreet, on the back of the neck, hidden under the braids. I don't know who you are, Beth Halloran,” Ianto spoke directly to her, “but you wear the symbol of a Catholic order that was excommunicated, disbanded, and hunted down by direct papal order. Sounds familiar?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lasa is the Etruscan Fate-Goddess. Make of that what you will.... for now...

     Beth looked around curiously. “This is where you work?”  
  
     “Yep.” Gwen snickered. “Cosy, isn't it?”  
  
     Beth smiled at her as she wandered around the Hub. Their attempts at questioning her had gone nowhere. Beth had continued to insist that she couldn't remember anything about what had happened in her home, but was equally certain she hadn't hurt anyone. She claimed the burn scar on the back of her neck was the result of falling against a wrought iron fire screen as a child. Finally, by unspoken agreement, they drifted off, leaving Gwen with their guest.  
  
     “Who are you people?”  
  
     “You've never heard of Torchwood?” Gwen asked   
  
     “Of course I have! Everyone has, but that doesn't mean anyone knows anything.”   
  
     She bent to take a closer look at something resembling a mishappen microscope, only to jump back startled as Ianto suddenly appeared from behind the fountain.   
  
     “We don't sniff the sub-etheric resonator.”   
  
     “Sorry!” She stepped back, a little alarmed, before she caught the twinkle in his eyes. “This is crazy!”  
  
     “It probably seems so, yes,” Gwen said peaceably. “But there are questions we need answers to and it's our job to get them. Something strange happened at your flat. We've got to make sure you had nothing to do with it.”  
  
     Andy watched them from Tosh's work station. Gwen was playing good cop. It was her best role, because it really wasn't a role at all; that's who Gwen was. But Andy had known her for a while now, and he could tell she wasn't convinced Beth was innocent. On the other hand, Ianto, who had seemed more hostile, was actually much less certain of her guilt. Owen, being Owen, kept his own counsel, but he had made sure to position himself near the lockdown switch. Andy looked down at the open drawer where Tosh's specially-designed flechette gun lay cocked and ready.  
  
     He wondered if Beth knew she was surrounded.  
  
     The sound of the cog door alarms made everyone jump a little. Jack and Tosh came in. They both looked strained, and there was a rigidity to Jack's shoulders that Andy hadn't seen since New Year's Eve of the year 2000. Alex Hopkins' betrayal had left Jack teetering between avenging angel and ruthless monster. Only the appearance of the strange little girl, Lasa, had turned him away from either disaster. He wasn't looking forward to a repeat of those terrible few weeks.  
  
     “Gwen!” Jack barked. 'Take Mrs. Halloran to the interrogation room.”  
  
     Gwen looked up at him, startled at his tone, but stood up and took Beth's arm. “Come this way, Beth.”  
  
     Beth pulled away in a panic. “Why? What are you going to do to me? You can't treat people like this. I've been burgled, attacked! I want a lawyer, I want a phone call. If you're charging me...”  
  
     “We're not charging you with anything. We don't have to.” Jack moved closer until he was towering menacingly over her. “ And there'll be no lawyer, no phone calls, just us, and that room for as long as it takes. Now, tell me what happened!”  
  
     “I don't know!”  
  
     Gwen placed herself between them. “Beth, we're not going to do anything. We need to ask you a few questions, all right?”   
  
     She took Beth's arm again and started towards the corridor leading to the interrogation room. Beth dug in her heels and refused to budge. Andy was moving even before he had clear reason to, instinct guiding him as he made a flat dive for Beth.   
  
     He was a moment too late. She reared back, a shockingly loud wordless scream bursting from her throat as he swung away from them, vaulting upwards over the railing to land sure-footedly on the catwalk. She moved like a trained fighter, knees loose and body balanced.   
  
     “What do you think you're doing, Beth?” Jack shouted up at her. “There's nowhere to go. We can lock you inside this place and you would never find your way out.”   
  
     “I will protect!”  
  
     “Protect what, Beth?” Andy said in a much softer tone. “What must you protect?”  
  
     “The great secret...” She swayed on her feet, and she stretched her arms as if trying to keep her balance. “I must protect... “  
  
     She screamed again, and there was something in the sound that made Andy want to clamp his palms over his ears. She gripped one of the iron balusters that supported the handrail and yanked on it; unbelievably, it came loose with a screech that set everyone's teeth on edge. She turned, raising the metal bar over her head, but the swing seemed to stall in midair. Suddenly Andy was aware that Ianto was standing next to her, one hand grabbing the bar, the other pressing something against her neck. He caught her as she crumpled, easing her down to the metal grating of the catwalk. Andy made to go help him but was pushed aside by Owen. The doctor took the stairs two at a time dropping to kneel next to Beth.  
  
     “What did you use?” he asked Ianto, who turned over his hand to show a miniature air hypodermic. “Right. She'll be awake in a few minutes, then. Help me get her down.”  
  
     They brought her downstairs and put her back on the couch. This time Ianto used flexible handcuffs to tie her wrists together, and he and Andy sat to either side of her. Ianto poured a cup of coffee and added generous amounts of cream and sugar. When Beth stirred, he put one arm behind her and held the cup to her lips.  
  
     “No, don't talk. Drink this, first.”  
  
     She sipped at it, then tried to wrap her hands around the cup. When she realized her wrists were bound she threw herself backwards, desperately trying to get away from him.  
   
     “What's in the cup? What are you doing to me? It wasn't them, it was you, it was you all along.” She was working herself up into hysteria. “People say terrible things happen when Torchwood shows up...”  
  
     Andy gripped her shoulders and shook her gently. “Beth! Listen to me. We had to restrain you for your own safety...”  
  
     “No!” She screamed at him. “Liar! Liar!”  
  
     A high-pitched whistle startled her out of her rant. Everyone looked towards Tosh, who stood by her workstation, fingers still to her lips. She pointed at the oversize screen next to her desk, where the CCTV tape of the earlier events was running. The terror in Beth's face deepened as she watched herself tear the metal bar from the railing.  
  
     “It's a lie, you've made it up, people can do anything with computers these days...” She looked at each of them in turn, and found only pity. “Oh God, what's happening to me?”  
  
     “We don't know, Beth,” Ianto said. “But maybe there's a way to help you remember.”  
  
     Andy looked at Ianto in surprise. Dark empaths could retrieve memories from other people's minds, but he knew how repelled Ianto was by that part of his talent. “Ianto?”  
  
     “Help only, Andy. Jack and I have been working on a way... but it would need Beth's cooperation.”  
  
     “What do... what do I have to do?” Beth asked.  
  
     “I believe your memories have been blocked, Beth. That,” he pointed at the screen, where Beth's image was frozen in mid-swing. “is not you as you know yourself to be. Someone made you forget that Beth. And it might have caused Mike's death.”  
  
     She managed to get her hands around one of his. “And you can help me remember?”   
  
     “Only if you want to. It has to be your decision.”  
  
     She stared at the image on the screen for a long while, then took a deep breath. “Yes. I want to know. I need to know.”  
  
     Jack moved until he was standing behind Ianto. He put his hands on Ianto's shoulders. Ianto released Beth's wrists. Setting aside the cuffs, he held out his hands. Beth placed hers palm to palm with his, and their fingers intertwined.  
  
     “Close your eyes, Beth. Take deep slow breaths. Empty your mind as much as you can. Yes, like that. Would you let me in? Yes...” Ianto's own eyes closed. “Can you see it, Beth? That wall, in the distance?”  
  
     “Yes...”  
  
     “We need to get closer. Yes... like that. Let's find a crack on the wall, Beth.”  
  
     “There can't be any cracks.” Her voice had changed, seemed firmer, stronger. “Must protect the secret.”  
  
     “Protecting the secret killed Mike, didn't it, Beth?” At her nod, he pressed. “And there might be others killed. You can stop the killing, Beth. Just find that crack... yes, that's it, Beth. Take a hold of the rock, like that, yes,” their hands pressed together until the knuckles were white against the darker skin. “Now, Beth. Now.”  
  
     Beth jerked backwards, back arching until Andy thought she would break in half. He put his arms around her waist and supported her with his own body. She was shivering as if she had ague; he could hear her teeth shattering. It went on and on, until he thought her every bone would break, and then, just as suddenly as it had started, she collapsed against him.  
  
     “Release me.” The voice held no trace of the terrified woman they had brought to the Hub. He dropped his arms. She sat up, letting go of Ianto's hands. “I thank you, Mr. Jones.”  
  
     “Who are you?” Jack asked.  
  
     “I am Bethany, Knight of the Temple, Guardian of the...” She shook her head. “You need not know that. I thank you for your help, but this is not for Torchwood.”  
  
     “You're a Knight Templar?” Jack looked as gobsmacked as Andy felt. “A Templar?”  
  
      Beth nodded. “We still exist. We still have our purpose, as we had in the Holy Land.” She stood up. “I must go now. The Prior must be informed. Conditions have changed.”  
  
     “That they have,” Tosh interjected, looking up from her desktop monitor. “I've been keeping an eye on the Frates' monastery.”  
  
     “How?” Andy asked.  
  
     She smirked. “American satellite command encrypting is not all they think it is. I been redirecting it for a few seconds as it passes over the monastery. Two hours ago, several large vans left the compound. I used the French traffic cameras to track them as far as the Roscoff ferry terminal . The satellite passed over the monastery again about five minutes ago. This time I asked for an infrared reading. There isn't a heat source larger than a cat left in any of the buildings. I think all the Fratres Milites Christi are on their way to Wales.”  
  
     Andy felt the chill settle in his stomach. “And they are armed with a get-out-of-hell-no-matter-what-you-do card from the Pope.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Llangorse Lake is a real place. In this Universe, it’s a lot less populated than in ours – because the afanc is real! 
> 
> The Asherah is very, very real http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asherah. 
> 
> Lachish was the second largest city in Israel in Biblical times

     They used the secondary roads, keeping some distance between the two SUVs, with Tosh in one and Ianto in the other keeping track of possible surveillance. At a few miles outside of Aberbagoed they veered off to Markham, then soon after Tredegar they veered off again towards Beaufort but before entering the town veered off one last time into the Llangynidr Road. That was a straight shot to Llangorse, over a road used mostly by locals, produce lorries, and a few photography enthusiasts looking for the perfect shot of the Beacons.   
  
     After Beth’s announcement, Jack had insisted that she take them to the Templar hiding place immediately; she refused bluntly. The shouting match was derailed by, of all people, Owen, when he suggested that Beth use a Torchwood phone link to call her superiors. Both Beth and Jack had grudgingly agreed. Under Jack’s gimlet eye, Beth had spoken to her contact, who told her to sit tight and wait for instructions. Less than an hour later, they had come:  _bring them with you_.  
  
     When Beth told them where they were going, Andy had found himself to be rather unsurprised. Ballads and stories about Llangorse Lake, or Llyn Syfaddon, as his grandmother called it, were abundant in Welsh folklore. On his tenth birthday, his father had taken him for a weekend’s camping. They had gotten up before sunrise and had been rewarded with a glimpse of the afanc as it splashed near the shore, snuffling about for his breakfast, its crocodile-shaped body clumsy out of its element.   
  
      Throughout the trip Beth had sat rigidly straight on the back seat next to Andy, only her tightly clenched hands showing her tension. Finally, she leaned forward and tapped Jack on the shoulder. “Captain, in a few minutes you'll see a small cairn with three rose bushes planted around it. Turn off the road right after it.”  
  
     Jack followed instructions without speaking. He was slightly less tense than he had been in the Hub, but clearly not enough to unbend towards her yet. Andy sighed. When Jack got that way he could outstubborn a bloody corgi.  
  
     They bounced through thick woods, along a rough track that led precipitously downwards. After fifteen minutes or so, the land leveled out, or at least the slope became much gentler. They came out of the woods on the shores of Llangorse Lake, a few hundred metres from the crannog.   
  
     Beth led them down to the shore. For a moment, nothing happened. Jack was turning towards Beth, face thunderous, when Gwen squealed and pointed. Andy had to force himself not to turn and run as he watched the afanc swim towards them so smoothly that he left barely any wake behind him. He heard a smothered laugh behind him and wondered what Ianto saw that they didn’t.   
  
     “I can’t feel it,” Tosh whispered. “The afanc. There’s…. nothing there.”  
  
     Beth grinned at her and waded into the cold water until it lapped at her knees. As the monster reached her, she lifted her right hand and drew a symbol in the air. The afanc’s body shimmered and faded away. In its place was a rigid-hull inflatable Zodiac with seating capacity for at least a dozen. One man stood at the console while another stood guard, a rifle held expertly at the ready.  
  
     “Oh,” Gwen said, disappointment clear in her voice. “You mean the monster is not real?”  
  
     “It’s real all right,” Beth said. “But we borrow his appearance once in a while.”  
  
     They clambered onto the boat. As soon as they were seated, the boat took off at a fast clip towards the crannog. Andy looked back over his shoulder, wondering briefly what it would look like to people standing on the shore, but Tosh's and Gwen's gasps brought his attention back to the front just in time to see a small section of the vegetation covering the man-made island swing aside.  
  
     “Hang on!” Beth shouted.  
  
     Andy grabbed the railing in front of him. The Zodiac bumped and dipped a couple of times then dropped nearly vertically along a rushing column of water. Gwen and Tosh screamed loudly at the feeling of being airborne, while Owen cut loose with a loud whoop that made him sound like a kid on a rollercoaster. Andy just closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping his stomach from turning inside out as the drop was suddenly halted when the boat splashed down, bobbing gently for a second or two before starting to move forward again.  
  
     He opened his eyes. They were moving along an underground river bound by narrow ledges that rose overhead to form a low roof. The rock glittered with some sort of inner light source, making it possible for Andy to see the others. Jack and Ianto were sitting calmly side by side; Ianto met Andy's eyes and one eyebrow quirked upwards, which was as close as Ianto would ever get to a heartfelt _what the hell_? Andy returned an equally minimal shoulder lift. He looked at Tosh, sitting next to him, head swiveling as she took in everything. Behind Jack and Ianto, Gwen and Owen were whispering and pointing.  
  
     The boat sailed through a large archway and into a narrow tunnel. Andy put out his hand and touched the wall. His fingers came away stained a phosphorescent yellow. He was examining it when Tosh grabbed his arm and squeezed. “Look!”  
  
     The tunnel ended on a vast cavern lake lit completely by the glittering walls. At the far end, a set of steps descended to a stone quay. Beyond the steps rose the façade of a temple. It's center was taken up by a massive wooden door, while to either side three half-columns mounted on pedestals supported a flat tablet and pediment that had been carved into the rock.  
  
     The Zodiac came to a stop against the quay. They stepped off and waited. After a few minutes, the church doors opened and a man in a simple white robe came out. He was very old, his austere face deeply lined, his hair and beard white. Plain and unadorned, he dominated the setting. Behind him, two Templar knights in full regalia acted as bodyguards.   
  
     Beth ran up the stairs and dropped to her knees in front of him. His right hand came to rest on her head, and he whispered a blessing in Latin, then took both her hands in his and helped her up. They spoke briefly. She turned to them and waved them up. “Please come with us.”  
  
     Jack started up the stairs and they fell in line on either side of him in their usual fashion, Gwen and Tosh flanking him slightly behind and to the side, with Andy and Owen repeating the position behind the women and Ianto bringing up the rear at the center.  
  
     “Welcome to the Temple Captain Harkness.” The old man's voice was deep and resonant. “Thank you for bringing back our sister, safe and sound. I am Robert FitzGodebert, prior of our order.”  
  
     Jack inclined his head briefly. “This isn't a social visit, Master.”  
  
     “We received word of the movements of our former brethren right after you called, Captain.” He smiled. “We have been playing this game with them for centuries. However, this is the first time they have come so close.”   
  
     “Father...” Beth whispered, dropping her head to hide her face. “I know why.”  
  
     “Not here, child.” He touched his fingers to her lips. “Come, everyone. I think it is only fair that you understand why all the secrecy is necessary.”  
  
     They entered the temple. It was a long, narrow space with high ceilings. Half-columns measured out the length of the nave. The rock walls between them had been polished until they gleamed, throwing back the light of the eight-armed candelabra set in front of them. At the opposite end from the door, a massive silver cross, taller than a man, hung on the wall behind a stone altar. On the altar itself stood an alabaster pillar about three feet high, carved to resemble a tree.   
  
     “You have an Asherah in your Temple?” Jack asked the Prior. “No wonder you got into trouble. Crystal talking heads and goat masses don't even come close.”  
  
     The Prior chuckled. “They did not want to reveal the truth. It would have been most... disruptive. Come, let me show you.”  
  
     As they approached the altar, Andy started to get subtle whiffs of... something. It was his mother's lemon lilies, and the ozone of a massive thunder storm, and the bloody discharge after childbirth. It wasn't magic, but magic's progenitor, something older and much more powerful. He swayed on his feet and felt Ianto prop him up from behind.   
  
     “Jack?” Everyone turned towards him. “There's something here.” He started to move forward, but found his way blocked by the Prior's bodyguards. “In the altar, not on it.”  
  
     “Let him pass,” the Prior said, a touch of resignation in his voice. “He would not have found Her if She had not wanted him to.”  
  
     The men moved and Andy rushed to the altar. He ran his hands over the stone, probing, until he found three circular depressions set close together, invisible to the eye. He placed his fingertips in them and pressed. There was a faint snick as something was released inside the altar, and a piece of the slab slid aside to allow a small platform, and its cargo, to rise to the surface. It was a woman, her body indistinct but her face and outstretched arms exquisitely detailed, carved out of a single piece of wood that had been polished until it gleamed like gold. Andy guessed it was only about a foot and a half in height, but the power pouring from it nearly choked him.  
  
     “Not an Asherah,” Jack said softly. “ _The_ Asherah.”  
  
     “We had been told of the mound at Lachish and the treasure it might contain. The then Prior was curious and he sent a small group to examine it and report back. We went directly to the spot where She was, as if we had been called. We brought Her back to Jerusalem and the Prior sent a message to the Pope. We heard nothing for too long a time, and then a warning came from a friend in Rome. The Prior called a meeting, and we prayed, and She answered us. Our task was to hide Her, down the ages, until it was time for Her to arise into the light again.”  
  
     “You talk,” Ianto said, “as if you had been there.”  
  
     The Prior smiled. “She chose me from among the young knights and sustained my life all these centuries. But now it is time to fight again, and I am too old and too tired. She needs a new Champion.” He extended his hand. “Beth?”  
  
     Beth's eyes got huge, then she shook her head. “I am not worthy, father.”  
  
     “Should She not be the judge of that?”  
  
     “You don't understand!” She shook her head again more emphaticaly. “There is a small group among us, father, who want to bring Her into the light now. It's power and revenge and the glory of God all mixed up. They thought that once the Vatican had Her they would not be able to resist Her truth.” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I was one of them. We contacted the Cardinal Primate and offered Her to him. To show their good faith the messengers were asked to reveal the names of some of our names.”  
  
     “And the fratres came after you,” Gwen said.  
  
     Beth nodded. “When they arrived, I was out picking up some things for supper. When I got back they were waiting for me, but Mike had managed to engage our emergency signal, so I came in prepared. Mike was already dead. I managed to surprise them. They don't think much of women and never expected me to be trained in hand-to-hand combat. I used their own swords on them. But I one small strike does not make up for treason!”  
  
     “That's not for you to say,” Ianto told her. “She certainly seems to think you're worthy. She helped Mike survive long enough to signal you. She sent ghost Knights to protect you from the Chief Constable, and then sent you to us, the only people outside your own who could be expected to understand what's at stake here.” He gestured towards the altar. “Besides, if you are unworthy, She will pass judgment quickly enough.”  
  
     Beth stared at him for a moment, then nodded. She went to stand next to Andy. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, then patted on the shoulder and stepped back. Beth reached for the statue. As her hands touched it, her eyes closed and she swayed. Andy started to move towards her, but her eyes snapped open and she smiled at all of them.  
  
     “It is well,” She spoke with a new certainty and authority in it. “We must leave now. They are almost here. Father...”  
  
     “Go with God and His Consort, child.” He sketched a sign of the cross in the air over her head. “There's another way out of here, through the mountain, which is known only to the Prior and the Champion. It is not short, but it is much safer than the lake route. Your vehicles have been moved and we've made sure there are no tracks.”  
  
     “What about the rest of you?”  
  
     “Most of us have already gone undercover. Each will make his way back to Her in his or her own time.”  
  
     The sounds of running and gun shots could be heard coming from somewhere outside.   
  
     “Where shall we take Her?” Jack asked.  
  
     “North. To Scotland. It has always been our last line of defense. She will show you the way.” He repeated the blessing. “Go with your God, all of you.”  
  
     Beth ran back out the door and onto the narrow ledge that bordered the lake, moving as though she were receiving instructions from somewhere... or Someone. The sounds were coming closer. As they reached the natural curve of the wall, Beth pointed to a small fissure nearly hidden by the glitter of the phosphorescent dust coating it. They plunged in after her. Andy looked back at the lake.   
  
     “Hold on a minute.” They stopped, though Owen gave him an impatient look. “Tosh? Can you sense the afanc?”  
  
     She closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes! Wait...” After a minute or two, she opened them again. “All right. We can go now.”  
  
     “What did you do?” Beth asked.  
  
     “I simply pointed out that the strangers making all the noise will not be very good neighbours,” Tosh said primly. “I don't think the fratres will have cause to celebrate this day. At all.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bronllys Castle http://www.castlewales.com/bronllys.html And there's even a legend about a secret passage... alas to Telgarth, not Llangorse Lake
> 
> Roslin Castle http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roslin_Castle. Of course it is associated with the Templar legend through the Sinclairs and the super-famous Rosslyn Chapel http://www.rosslynchapel.org.uk/

     They had come out of the underground passage inside Bronllys Castle's tower. The SUVs had been left at the foot of the motte, hidden from the road by an ancient stand of oaks. At Telgarth, they had rented a bright red Astra hatchback. Gwen, Andy, and Owen had driven the SUVs back to Cardiff, while Jack, Ianto, and Tosh continued on to Scotland with Beth, following her directions. They had made a straight dash for Edinburgh, keeping to the secondary roads. A few miles outside the city, Beth had them veer off down something that could only be described as a lane. Jack whooped with laughter.  
  
     “You have to be joking!”  
  
     She grinned at him. “Think about it, Captain. This is one of the best known Templar churches in the world. If they find our trail, it'll lead them here, and no matter how hard they look, they won't find anything.” She pointed at an even smaller lane leading down past the churchyard. “A few hundred yards that way.”  
  
     They had parked near a stone bridge crossing a deep chasm over the North Esk. On the other side, tumbled down walls overrun by greenery and half-hidden by large trees guarded a wrecked gatehouse. As they crossed the bridge, the glamour faded to reveal a fully operational castle with massive walls topped by modern security equipment. Several men ran out to meet them, kneeling as Beth uncovered the statue she carried.   
  
     “Talk about hiding in plain sight,” Jack said.  
  
     Beth had laughed. “The Sinclairs are very, very good at their business.” She turned to Tosh. “I hope you have time to give my people some pointers. I have a feeling we'll need some extra security for a while.”  
  
     They had stayed the night and headed back the following morning, walking out of Roslin Castle through a Templar honor guard. When they reached Cardiff they had dropped Tosh off and went straight to their flat, but they were still too pumped up to sleep.  
  
     Ianto pulled off his boots and socks and lay back on his favorite corner of the sofa with a sigh of relief. “We dodged a bullet, didn't we?”  
  
     “We probably dodged a whole battlefield's worth.” Jack poured two snifters of brandy and handed one over as he sprawled on the rug at Ianto's feet. “The appearance of God's Consort would set all the Peoples of the Book to wrangling for millennia. We need to do a great deal more growing up before we can deal with that sort of Power.”  
  
     “Especially, since...” Ianto hesitated. “I don't know how to say it.”  
  
     Jack rested his head against Ianto's knee and closed his eyes. “Any way will do.”  
  
     “The Asherah... it's like Caledfwlch.” Ianto combed his fingers through Jack's hair. “A container for Power, a... channel. That is...”  
  
     “The technical term for it is a Quintessence. An object that has been associated with a Power for so long that it has somehow absorbed some of it.”  
  
     “Yes.” He hesitated. “Can a Quintessence be alive?”  
  
     Jack sipped some of his brandy. “I don't know about alive. Sentient, yes.” He set down the snifter and shifted so he could look at Ianto. “I don't want to talk about that.”  
  
     Ianto smiled. “What shall we walk about, then? The Six Nations championship? What to get for Gwen and Rhys for their wedding present? Which lesson we want to practice tonight?”  
  
     Jack shook his head. “Wait right here.”   
  
     He jumped up and almost ran into the library. Ianto wondered idly if he would finally find out what all the whisperings and confabulations between Jack, Tosh, and Gwen had been about. They had been thick as thieves for a week. When Ianto had asked what was going on, Gwen had blithely told him it was _just wedding doings_. Considering how outrageous those two could get, Ianto hoped Tosh was clamping down on the more preposterous _doings_ , or poor Rhys was in for a hell of a wedding.  
  
     He watched Jack come back into the room. Braces, shoes, and socks were gone and sleeves had been rolled up; his mouth watered at the sight. He had known Jack for three years and they had been lovers for sixteen months, and Jack could still make him drool with lust.  
  
     “You have that look,” Jack remarked.  
  
     “What look?”  
  
     Jack's grin was positively obscene. “The one that says you're stripping me naked and having your way with me.”  
  
     “Any objections?”  
  
     “Not really. But before we get to the having your way part, there's something I want to... well... ask.” The grin turned hesitant and just a little shy. “Here.”  
  
      Ianto stared at the flat, wide jewelry box Jack was offering him, heart suddenly thumping fit to burst out of his chest. He took it and opened it. Inside it there were two matching bracelets made out of hammered gold links resembling chain mail. The clasps were shaped like a shield divided into eight triangles with their points meeting at the center, alternating silver and gold. At the center, where the points met, a dragon couchant cradled a crescent moon between its front paws.  
  
     “Jack...”  
   
     “In the time I was born, it wasn't the fashion for men to wear rings, except in great occassions. Too much danger of getting a sword blade caught in it. Besides, most male couples had to be a great deal more careful. These would be more acceptable to others.”  
  
     Ianto took one of the bracelets and studied the clasp. “The triangles and the crescent moon come from your coat of arms, don't they?”  
  
     “Yes. But the lion rampant didn't seem right. I talked to a friend of mine at the Court of the Lord Lyon. He was much relieved that I had finally settled on a personal design. _Gyronny of eight argent et Or, with dragon couchant vert holding a crescent Or_. Something like that anyway.” He waved the heraldic details away. “I thought we could... if you wanted to...”  
  
     Ianto felt a bubble of joy burst somewhere inside. “And the dragon is for me. For Wales.” At Jack's nod, Ianto offered him the bracelet. “Put it on me.”  
  
     As Jack clasped the bracelet around his wrist, Ianto whispered. “By oak, and ash, and holly, by root, and trunk, and branch, and leaf, by flower, and fruit, and seed, I do accept you, Jack Harkness, and bind myself to you.”  
  
     The smile on Jack's face could have outshone the sun. He picked up the second bracelet and handed it to Ianto. “Would you?” As Ianto repeated his actions, Jack whispered, “By sword, and dragon, and cup, by my name and my power, by the world present and the world invisible, I do accept you, Ianto Jones, and bind myself to you.”  
  
     Overhead, thunder rolled in a clear night sky. They looked at each other, suddenly serious. Without a word, they leaned towards each other and pressed their mouths together in a chaste kiss.   
  
     “I'm not very good at the romantic stuff...”  
  
     Ianto pressed his fingertips against Jack's lips. “We don't need any more words than we've already said. We have said our vows and they were accepted and sealed. That is enough.”  
  
     He kissed Jack again, this time putting all of his carnal desire into it. By slow degrees the kiss became more and more frantic, until they were devouring each other. Jack's arms came around Ianto and pulled him closer as he let himself fall backwards until he was flat on his back on the sofa, Ianto on top of him.  
  
     “This is the having your way part, yes?”  
  
     “Hush, Jack.”  
  
     He unbuttoned Jack's shirt and buried his mouth against the base of Jack's neck, nipping and sucking across his shoulder bones, first one and then the other. He felt Jack's hands roam down his back to his buttocks, then back up to hold his head at a better angle for Jack's tongue. He let Jack control the play for a while, then pulled back.  
  
      “Hey!” Jack grumbled.  
  
     “Too many clothes, Harkness, and much too much control. I'm the one having his way, remember?”  
  
     Jack threw out his arms exhuberantly. “I'm all yours.”  
  
     “Yes, you are.”  
  
     He disposed of their clothes as fast as he could, tossing each piece aside, ignoring Jack's amusement. The man didn't understand the difference between just tossing clothes aside and... well, tossing clothes aside, but at that moment he didn't feel like taking time to explain. Pulling Jack's legs apart, he knelt between them.   
  
     “Did I mention,” Jack gasped as Ianto's hands stroked over his erection, “ you made a great decision... oh God... on this couch?”   
  
     “Hush, love. Just enjoy.”  
  
     He grabbed the small tube of lube they kept discreetly tucked under a cushion. Squeezing some onto his fingers, he worked it into Jack, breaching him gently. Jack moaned and arched upwards, wanting more. Ianto obliged, stroking in and out in a slow rhythm until Jack was babbling incoherently. Ianto loved knowing that he could bring Jack so much pleasure. He leaned down, licking at Jack's cock, then took the crown between his lips and sucked.   
  
     “Iaaaanto!”   
  
     His name, spoken like a prayer or a command, made his own cock jerk. Keeping his mouth and tongue at their appointed task, he withdrew his fingers from Jack's arse and slathered lube over himself, making sure he couldn't hurt Jack. He gave Jack's cock one last lick, then rose to position himself at Jack's opening. Jack threw his head back, a deep throaty keen exploding out of him. Ianto couldn't resist the invitation. He pushed into Jack in one smooth thrust. He felt Jack's legs wrap around his hips, and he lowered himself until he could whisper in Jack's ear.  
  
     “I love you, Jack Harkness.”  
  
     Jack turned his head, frantically searching for Ianto's mouth. After Alex's death, he had been celibate for a long time, and when he started to let himself be interested in another person, first Estelle and then Andy, he had kept a part of himself separate. He loved them, but he hadn't been in love with them. He had believed he could keep Ianto at arms' length too, but he hadn't counted on Ianto's infinite capacity to give. The more Jack took, the more he wanted, and the more he needed to give back, until he was as enmeshed as Ianto. He had given himself over completely, and now he would kill anyone who tried to sever the bonds.  
  
     He tore his lips away from the kiss so he could put words to his surrender. “I love you, Ianto Jones.”


End file.
